Operation TEAM
by xSmolPidgex
Summary: When Numbuh 126 accepts a new position as the leader of the failing Sector CA, she must find a way to rebuild the relationships between its members in order to live up to the expectations of the KND. Set 12 years after the decommissioning of Sector V, a new set of operatives try to prove themselves to an organization who has lost hope in them. OC story. Part 1 of 15 (hopefully).
1. A New Assignment

**A/N: **Welp, I have very low hopes for the amount of people who will actually read this, but I'm mostly just doing this for fun so meh, might as well share it anyway. Recently got back into KND, so naturally I had to come up with a 15 part saga featuring my relatively new KND OCs. This is the first of fifteen (and hopefully I _will _get to fifteen at some point). For more info on my OCs, including bios and drawings, visit my deviantart, SmolPidgee. Also, Numbuh 2/2 is pronounced "2-Halves."

With that, let's begin!

* * *

Operation T.E.A.M.

**T**eam

**E**fforts

**A**re

**M**andatory

* * *

Complete silence. Numbuh 126 didn't even dare breathe as she pressed herself against the wall and began stealthily creeping down the hall. She'd taken off her shoes to null the noise of her footsteps, but as she stepped on a stray piece of gum, she began to regret it. Still, she trudged on, gum and all. No leftover candy was going to get in the way of a successful mission. Suddenly, her eyepiece detected slight movement farther down the hallway.

_Found her._

Without a moment's hesitation, Numbuh 126 threw herself into the middle of the hallway and fired her M.U.S.K.E.T. horizontally, covering the length of the entire hallway. A small yelp indicated that she had hit her target, but the succeeding footsteps meant that this operative wasn't ready to give in quite yet.

"113's on the move, heading towards the 2nd grade classrooms," 126 said into her earpiece, now in full pursuit. She really wished she'd kept her shoes on now, but there was nothing she could do about it at this point. She trusted her feet to be calloused enough to handle the pavement should Numbuh 113 make it outside.

"Copy, we'll have the branching hallways covered," Numbuh 126 heard her superior say on the other end. "Keep on her tail."

"Roger that," Numbuh 126 answered, doing the best she could to keep up with her target, despite their drastic difference in leg length. Though barely any lights were on (common given the school day had ended a couple hours ago), Numbuh 113 had given up trying to stay quiet. Her best bet at this point was to outrun and outmaneuver, which worked out well for Numbuh 126 as far as she was concerned. Her panting was growing heavy, so Numbuh 126 could tell that it was only a matter of time before she slowed down and she'd be able to catch up to her.

Her eyepiece was signaling that she was close. If she reached out hard enough, she just might be able to take a hold of her shirt…

Unfortunately for her, Numbuh 113 had taken some precautions. Before Numbuh 126 could stop herself, a swarm of figures leaked out from the surrounding classrooms, creating a barrier between her and Numbuh 113.

"She bribed!" Numbuh 126 screeched as a wave of second graders rose up to attack her. Each one had a lollipop stuck in their mouths.

"Hold on, I'm sending Numbuh 57 your way," her superior told her.

"No, don't worry about me," Numbuh 126 insisted. She knew that refusing help would only put more distance between her and the target, but she would rather her teammate's focus remain on blocking out any escape routes. "I'll get to you guys as quickly as I can. She's still heading down this hallway."

"Okay, if you say so," Numbuh 126 could practically hear Numbuh 57 shrug from her end.

Meanwhile, the second graders swung at her with reckless abandon, their tiny fists aiming for any part of her they could reach. She didn't want to have to deal with them, and especially not hurt them, but there was no way she was going to mess up her successful mission streak, not when this one could mark her 100th.

It wasn't too hard to herd them back; a good shove was enough to deter the ones closest to her, and a few shots from her M.U.S.K.E.T. scared away the rest, leaving only a few stragglers behind. Numbuh 126 would have easily broken through if not for one blonde pigtailed girl, who stood her ground. Numbuh 126 tried to run past her, but the girl dove in her way to block her. When 126 attempted to push her aside, she was surprised to feel the girl pushing back.

"Carly promised me she'd give me her old skateboard if I kept you away from her," she announced, her fists raised. Unlike her classmates, she seemed to know what she was doing.

"Listen, kid, this is my job," Numbuh 126 sighed, trying to push her away once more, but again, the girl wouldn't budge.

"Suit yourself," Numbuh 126 shrugged and charged at the girl. The girl had a decent stance and blocked with her arms crossed one over the other, using that momentum to land a kick to Numbuh 126's knee.

Realizing that this girl meant business, Numbuh 126 decided that she couldn't waste any more time. Rearing herself for another charge, she leapt over the girl at the last minute, catching her off guard. She immediately broke into a run upon landing. "You've got guts, kid, but you're no Kids Next Door operative," she called out.

Numbuh 126 then dashed down the hallway. Numbuh 113 had gotten away from her temporarily, but she wouldn't get far; if Numbuh 126 couldn't find her, one of her teammates surely would. Still, she ditched her chest armor as she ran, hoping that dropping the extra weight would give her a much needed boost. Besides, if Numbuh 113 had a weapon handy, she would have made it known by now.

"Numbuh 113's been spotted in the cafeteria!" Numbuh 418 announced through his earpiece. "She'll reach the playground soon!"

"If she reaches the jungle gym, we're gonna have to call in extra forces," Numbuh 126 sighed. "Let's try and avoid that mess if we can."

"Affirmative," her superior added. "All troops head to the playground."

Numbuh 126 switched routes, convening with some of her teammates as she neared the cafeteria exit.

"I see her!" Numbuh 57 exclaimed, pointing at a lithe shape dashing towards the jungle gym.

"We're not gonna make it," Numbuh 418 said, trying to pick up his pace.

_Like crud, we aren't!_

Numbuh 126 threw off her headgear (it's not like she needed it to see at this point), leaving her with just her decommissioning squad uniform and her M.U.S.K.E.T. Aiming it at Numbuh 113, she fired. She was too far to make a direct hit, but she hoped that it would spook the teen enough to get her to zig zag. It would be harder to land a hit on her, but at least it would slow her down.

Following her lead, her two teammates began firing as well. Numbuh 113 had no choice but to dodge, and soon, her pace began faltering. Even so, she was definitely going to outrun them; the distance was just too great.

Luckily, Numbuh 126 was relieved from having to think something up by Numbuh 57, who suddenly exclaimed from behind her, "Duck!"

Numbuh 126 peeked behind her long enough to notice the S.P.R.A.Y.S.H.I.P. heading towards them, then threw herself to the ground, her hands pressed behind her neck. Her hair flew forward as the aircraft flew dangerously close to her, but thankfully, it missed them. Instead, the ship headed straight for the jungle gym.

Without stopping, a figure burst out of the ship, letting the ship skid across the pavement a few yards. Landing on his feet, he popped off a small ball-like object from the sash across his chest and with wicked accuracy, threw it directly at Numbuh 113. With a satisfying pop, the operative fell, her limbs clamped to her body with booger fiber.

"Nice shot, Numbuh 2/2, sir!" Numbuh 126 congratulated her commander as she and the rest of the team gathered around him and a dejected Numbuh 113.

"Yeah, well I'm sure Numbuh 242 is going to be elated when he's asked to fix this ship again," Numbuh 418 rolled his eyes. "Couldn't you have landed the ship first?"

The S.P.R.A.Y.S.H.I.P. in question had only sustained minor damage in comparison to some of Numbuh 2/2's past exploits: only a couple crushed containment units and a scraped paint job.

2/2 paid Numbuh 418 no mind, however, staring down at his captive with glee. "It's all worth it to know that we've protected important KND information by catching this miscreant," he said, letting his French accent loose and poking the teen in the leg with the end of his foot. "No one escapes _my_ decommissioning squad."

"I'm no miscreant!" Numbuh 113 bit back, trying one last time to break free from her bonds to no avail.

"Because bribing second graders to give you a fighting chance is the epitome of a model citizen," Numbuh 418 once again let his sarcasm shine through.

"Yeah, that poor girl over there is hoping you'll give her your old skateboard," Numbuh 126 added. She had always felt bad for the operatives she had had to decommission, but she had little pity for those who tried to escape, especially those who involved innocent kids in the process.

"Amelia would make a good Kids Next Door operative, I think," Numbuh 113 muttered, then kept quiet.

"Must I remind you that you've been stripped from your position as a KND recruiter, 113? We'll be searching for new operatives ourselves from now on," Numbuh 2/2 said, the threat in his voice clear as day.

113 averted her eyes, for a moment seeming as if she were about to argue, but eventually deciding against it.

"Good job once again, team! Let's head to Moonbase and celebrate!" Numbuh 2/2 patted each of his subordinates on their shoulder. Then, giving Numbuh 113 one last threatening glance he added, "Right after we deal with this one here, of course."

* * *

Numbuh 113's decommissioning was over as quickly as it had begun. After escorting her home, the team had kept their promise of celebrating and were now chowing down on the Moonbase cafeteria's pizza special of the day. Now changed out of their uniforms, the group might have looked like any other group of operatives working at Moonbase if not for 2/2. As far as Numbuh 126 knew, the boy was so dedicated to his job that he owned no other clothes other than his decommissioning gear. Although he wasn't required to wear the standard decommissioning uniform as head of the team, he wore his own variant. It was similar enough to the official one, but differed in color and accessories, namely his pot hat and sash. She sometimes worried that he'd have to be escorted back home naked once it was time for his own decommissioning.

"Hey, Numbuh 126!" a familiar voice called to her from behind.

Numbuh 126 turned around to meet Numbuh 749, personal secretary to the soopreme leaduh. One of her overall dress straps had come loose again, and her black pigtails were scraggly at the ends, unusual given her normally clean cut look. She must have had a busy morning. Based on the fact that she was tapping her clipboard with the end of her pencil, Numbuh 126 supposed that she wasn't quite done with work for the day. If 749 had wanted to hang out, she would have been carrying a whoopie cushion instead, insisting that they prank poor Numbuh 1876 in the archives again.

"What's up?" Numbuh 126 asked, taking another bite of her pizza.

"Numbuh 95 wants you in her office, ASAP," Numbuh 749 explained, pushing some of her stray hairs away from her face. "Says she's got an offer for you and she needs an answer right away."

"She must have heard of your performance today!" 2/2 beamed. "Congratulations on your promotion!"

"I haven't been promoted yet, sir," Numbuh 126 sighed. Of course, now an entire section of the cafeteria had their eyes on her.

"Well, I hope you are" 2/2 continued, undeterred. Then, in an almost threatening tone he added, "Provided it isn't to my position, of course."

"Of course, sir." Numbuh 126 looked away quickly. She would never dare take Numbuh 2/2's position, not if she wanted to make it to work the next day. 2/2 wouldn't decommission her, but she was convinced that he'd throw one of his booger grenades at her and abandon her on a distant planet in a heartbeat. Braver operatives than her had tried to cross 2/2, but they'd all quit the KND shortly after for unspecified reasons.

"Let's go, already!" Numbuh 749 gripped onto Numbuh 126's arm and dragged her away from the table in one swift tug. She was obviously in a hurry.

"Busy morning?" 126 asked as the two boarded the elevator that would take them to the soopreme leaduh's office.

"Numbuh 95's been sending me all over the place lately," Numbuh 749 sighed. "I haven't been home in days! I think I'm going through a rainbow monkey withdrawal."

Despite being a fan of the plush toys herself, Numbuh 95 had long ago banned rainbow monkeys from Moonbase, claiming that they were a distraction to operatives. When that became a much debated topic, it only took a comment on how they would become a liability should Moonbase be attacked to shut most dissenters up.

"Well, I hope work gets easier for you soon," said Numbuh 126.

"Well, if you accept this then I might actually be done, so I sure hope you do," Numbuh 749 teased.

"What am I being offered anyway?" Numbuh 126 asked. She knew it was unlikely that Numbuh 749 knew; as much as Numbuh 95 trusted her secretary, she tended to keep such affairs to herself to avoid the spreading of rumors. Those spread through Moonbase like wildfire, and Numbuh 95 couldn't stand them.

As suspected, Numbuh 749 only shrugged. "Beats me. But if you accept whatever it is, that means I don't have to go down the line." The Chinese operative slapped the back of her hand on her clipboard, which listed another handful of operatives. She guessed that not all of them would be conveniently located at Moonbase already.

The elevator came to a stop shortly after, opening up to Numbuh 95's office slowly and methodically. Numbuh 126 was greeted with walls covered in butterfly displays, bug cages littering the floor and shelves, and an entire row of exhibits lined up against the back wall containing a variety of live butterflies and beetles. The place honestly gave her the creeps, not because she was scared of bugs, but because she became self-conscious under the gaze of both the dozens of bugs and her leaduh, who would carefully watch her every move in order to ensure that she didn't accidentally kill off any of them.

She found Numbuh 95 busy playing with a caterpillar by her desk, distracted by its wriggling body making its way across her palm.

"I've brought you, Numbuh 126, m'am," 749 said, shoving Numbuh 126 farther into the room. Numbuh 126 had to make a last minute leap to avoid crushing a straggling praying mantis.

"Oh, you're here!" Numbuh 95 motioned over for Numbuh 126 to take a seat, observing her feet to make sure she was careful of her pets.

Mindful not to accidentally squish anything in her path, Numbuh 126 eventually made it to the chair opposite Numbuh 95's desk and took a seat. Numbuh 750, Numbuh 749's brother and Numbuh 95's personal bodyguard, kept careful watch of her from his place beside the soopreme leaduh. Though he wasn't a particularly scary operative, he certainly had an air of authority about him. It was hard not to feel his eyes bearing into her skin, waiting for her to make a wrong move. Though she was on good terms with the guy, and he was fully aware that she was good friends with her leaduh, he didn't take chances, which was painfully obvious thanks to the overabundance of tools and gear he carried. His backpack was loaded with rays of all kinds, and his belt was similarly loaded with smaller trinkets, some of which weren't available to the average operative. In even had a long flagpole with a flag bearing his codename sticking out of his backpack. Normally it was used just so that Numbuh 95 could locate him at all times, but he was also known for using it as a weapon. Numbuh 126 had never been at the receiving end of that pole, and she didn't want to find out today, so she gave him a friendly smile. His expression remained unchanged.

Numbuh 95 smiled at her, letting the caterpillar down on the base of her chair. "As Numbuh 749 has probably already told you, I've got an offer for you."

"That being?" Numbuh 126 focused her attention back to her leaduh.

"Sector CA's leader has been demoted; too many failed missions, and he'll be turning thirteen in a few months anyway," Numbuh 95 began, fiddling with the antennae sticking out from her headband. Her obsession with bugs strayed into her fashion sense, and thanks to her position and bee-themed attire, it was no wonder she was known as _Queen Bee._ "I was hoping that you'd take over instead."

"Take over a sector?" Numbuh 126's eyes widened. "But I've never even been in a sector before!" Numbuh 126 had been assigned to the decommissioning squad immediately after having graduated from the KND training academy. Though she'd secretly dreamed of helping kids directly rather than track down escaping operatives, she didn't know the first thing about conducting regular missions. She'd volunteered for the odd one here or there when her work was done for the day and a team needed extra hands, but they'd been pretty mild in nature, not anything like Numbuh 95 had described to her from when she was younger.

Numbuh 126 even spared a glance at Numbuh 750, but his expression betrayed nothing about what he was thinking. She should've known better than to expect a reaction from him.

"Based on your performance so far, I can tell you work well in a team, and that's what this sector severely needs: a functioning team," Numbuh 95 pressed. "It'd be a pain to transfer every operative out and build a new team, and I think you can help shape it into something useful."

"You really think I can do it?"

"I know you can. I respect your work ethic, and I know you don't take crud from anyone," Numbuh 95 assured her. "Besides, the other members aren't fit for leadership. I've got other candidates in mind, but I figured I'd offer you the spot first, seeing as how you've always volunteered to go on Earth missions and it would have been your home sector had you gone that route."

"That's true," Numbuh 126 conceded. "I'm not sure if I can really do this, but if you trust me, then I am inclined not to let you down."

"Does that mean…?"

Numbuh 126 nodded, her confidence bubbling up. If Numbuh 95 had really thought of her first, then maybe she was simply underestimating herself. "I accept your offer."

"Great!" Numbuh 95 clapped her hands together jovially. "I'll take you over tomorrow afternoon. I hope that's enough time for you to gather your things here and to make arrangements with the decommissioning squad?"

"It's more than enough, thank you."

"Alright then, see you tomorrow."

Numbuh 126 saluted her commander and made her way back to the elevator, narrowly missing a stray ladybug crawling up the elevator call buttons.

"Oh, and Numbuh 126?" Numbuh 95 called before the doors closed.

"Yeah?"

"Congrats on your mission streak."


	2. Meeting Sector CA

Sector CA's treehouse was located in a national park in Sacramento, an hour or so south from Numbuh 126's house. Despite being in the state's capital, the treehouse seemed oddly peaceful, away from the city and instead blending into the surrounding wilderness as best as a gigantic redwood with gadgets poking out of every corner could. Numbuh 126 could certainly get used to this.

"We're here," Numbuh 95 announced as their C.O.O.L.B.U.S. landed at the base of the tree.

"How come we didn't land in the hangar?" Numbuh 126 asked as she exited the aircraft alongside her commander and Numbuhs 749 and 750. The pilot remained on the aircraft, pulling out a yipper comic to pass the time.

Numbuh 95 rolled her eyes. "I want to avoid Numbuh 33 if I can help it," she explained. "He won't be too happy to see me, having demoted him and all."

Numbuh 126 had done a little research on the guy before arriving, looking up his photo and basic info. From what she remembered, she recalled Numbuh 33 being the oldest team member, clocking in at twelve. He was the hand-to-hand combat specialist and doubled as a pilot. He had been the previous sector leader before being demoted recently.

The four operatives gained entrance to the treehouse using the universal treehouse code, then rode an elevator to the top. When the doors finally opened, three operatives looked up from what they were doing. Two boys were sitting on the floor playing yipper, though one of them was multitasking by pounding some nails into what appeared to be a new piece of 2x4 technology. A red bandana was wrapped around his forehead, which kept his dark brown hair out of the way as he worked.

The other was also slightly distracted, typing things into a laptop. At a first glance, Numbuh 126 might've mistaken him for a teenager, seeing as he was already tall enough to be one. Still, his baby face gave him away. His bright orange vest contrasted with his dark skin and hair, but he somehow made it work. The remaining operative, a girl sitting on the couch, was reading a comic having to do with sharks. Numbuh 126 could only make out her beat-up sneakers and choppy blonde hair underneath a black beanie with a red cross on it.

_A medic I'm guessing?_

"Numbuh 95!" the working boy jumped up and saluted, dropping his work in the process. "You're here!"

"Calm down, Renzo, I'm just here to drop off your new leader," Numbuh 95 set him at ease.

"Are you Numbuh 126?" the other boy asked, getting to his feet and meeting Numbuh 126 with a hearty handshake. "I'm Numbuh 420. Boy, am I glad you're here!"

"A pleasure," Numbuh 126 smiled back. These guys didn't seem so bad. Though... "420?"

Though his blush wasn't very visible thanks to his complexion, 126 was close enough to notice a vague hue of red reach his cheeks. Being so close also meant she could make out the dark circles around his eyes. He must have missed out on some sleep.

420 scratched the back of his neck, and said, "I chose it as a joke. Didn't realize I wouldn't have a chance to change it later."

"It's your fault for hanging around those teen websites all the time," the other boy teased. "I'm Numbuh 916," he then introduced himself.

"Numbuh 71, come introduce yourself!" Numbuh 420 called out to the girl sitting on the couch, but she simply waved in their general direction and kept reading.

"Don't worry about her," he assured Numbuh 126. "Maddie's a chill gal, she just needs a bit to get used to having you around."

Numbuh 126 hoped so, considering the girl was their medic. If she got injured, she hoped that Numbuh 71 would actually come to her aid.

"Is Numbuh 33 not here?" Numbuh 95 asked, peering around the room.

Numbuh 916 shook his head. "Haven't seen him all morning. He left a note saying he was out on some business" 916 made quotation marks with his fingers for that last word, "and would be back later tonight."

"Good riddance," Numbuh 420 cringed. "It's the first lazy morning we've had in months! I can barely remember the last time the treehouse has been this peaceful."

"He probably just forgot you'd be coming around today," Numbuh 916 ignored his teammate's comment.

"I highly doubt that," Numbuh 749 murmured, but Numbuh 95 either didn't hear her or didn't care. Numbuh 126 almost swore he saw Numbuh 750 choke up, but the moment passed a second later and she couldn't make sure.

"Lovely!" Numbuh 95 smiled. "In that case, I'll get out of your way before he decides to return." Turning to 126, she added, "Don't be afraid to contact me if you need anything."  
Numbuh 126 nodded, and with that, the soopreme leaduh and her entourage left.

"I'm assuming you know a little about us already?" 916 asked, leading 126 to a table to sit down.

"How'd you guess?" She'd spent most of her research time looking up Numbuh 33 and the series of failed missions the sector had been responsible for, but she'd taken some time to look over the rest of the team as well.

"When we heard that they were sending someone from Moonbase to lead us, we knew this person had to be super responsible or something," 420 explained. "So call it an educated guess."

"Can we introduce ourselves anyway? I don't think the system has me up to date…" 916 cut in.

"Sure, the more I know about you the better," Numbuh 126 agreed. If she was going to lead these kids to victory over adult tyranny, she had to know her teammates like they back of her hand.

"Well I'm Aarav," 420 began before 916 could. "I'm the 2x4 tech officer here, though I can't really build any of the stuff I design so I leave it up to 916 here. I live in San Francisco, but I spend most nights here because I suck at flying."

"It's because he forgets to sleep," 916 whsipered loudly, clearly aiming to tease his younger comrade.

"Hey!" 420 shot up indignantly. "I got three whole hours last night!"

"I'm Lorenzo, but just call me Renzo," 916 picked up before 420 could object further. "I recently convinced my family to move out here to be closer to the treehouse, but I used to live in San Diego. We own the Mexican restaurant just outside the park."

"And what about your specialty?" Numbuh 126 asked. "The system had your specialty set to blank."

Being lighter than 420, it was much harder for 916 to hide his own blush. "Well, that's because I don't really have one."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not particularly good at anything, just okay. I'm kind of a jack-of-all-trades kinda guy," he admitted.

"But you must be good at something!" 126 insisted. KND operatives took pride in their specialty, no matter how irrelevant or minor said specialty was. To not have one altogether seemed _wrong _somehow.

916 didn't say anything in response. Realizing that she must have hit a sore spot, she was about to apologize before 420 said, "Actually, 916's a pretty good handyman. He fixes up the treehouse and all of our equipment whenever it gets all banged up."

"Which is all too often," 916 rolled his eyes.

"Speaking of which, we should probably give our new leader a tour of the treehouse," Numbuh 420 suggested, getting to his feet and pulling 916 onto his.

Numbuh 126 gathered the few bags she'd brought along with her. She intended on flying home every night, but she knew that she'd have to sleepover every once in a while, especially now that she was starting off a new position, so she'd brought a few things to make her feel a little more at home.

The trio made their way out of the general area (which had been rather empty besides a TV set, a couple sofas, and a breakfast table) and into the next room, the 2x4 tech lab. The walls were covered from top to bottom in crazy blueprints, and spare parts were littered everywhere. A single lightbulb managed to illuminate a work desk pressed against one wall, but the rest was hard to make out.

"This is my lair," 420 announced, being the only one to dare venture further into the room.

"You sleep here?" Numbuh 126 asked, observing a couple spiders as they crawled onto an abandoned bowl of cheese balls in the corner.

"I have a bed upstairs, but I tend to pass out here instead," 420 said.

"He means it," 916 backed him up. "I've seen him in his bed maybe three or four times, and only because I've had to drag him up there myself."

"Gross," was Numbuh 126's only comment. Still, some of the designs looked promising, and she was excited to test them out someday. She hadn't had much of a chance to do so in the decommissioning squad since 2/2 was insistent that their current equipment worked just fine.

Moving on, 916 and 420 guided her throughout the treehouse, showing her the kitchen, bathrooms, the hangar (all of which were in desperate need of housecleaning) and everyone's individual rooms. As promised, 420's room had been empty except for his bed and a small box of untouched belonging in the corner. 916's had been much more comforting, with photos of his family, friends, and hometown covering the walls. He had a hammock instead of a bed, and the floor was taken up by tools and yipper merchandise, yet was still somehow tidy enough to walk through without any issues.

"Is that Numbuh 1-800?" she asked, pointing at a couple photos of 916 and an operative who looked horribly familiar, her long brown hair kept in place with a red bandana identical to the one 916 currently had on his forehead.

"You know her?" he asked, smiling as he looked at the photos.

"That's his girlfriend," Numbuh 420 teased, elongating the last word playfully.

Numbuh 916's face grew hot and red, but he didn't deny it. "420 has the hots for her sister, though."

"Hey, can you blame me?" 420 loudly defended himself.

Numbuh 126 would have to agree with the Indian operative. Numbuh 1876 was a pretty operative indeed, and smart too. So smart, in fact, that she single-handedly ran the Kids Next Door archives up at Moonbase. Numbuh 126 had met up with her on a handful of occasions to discuss inconsistencies in decommissioning reports and the like. He didn't blame 420 for crushing on her at all.

On the other hand, Numbuh 126 had only spoken to Numbuh 1-800 a couple times. From her few conversations with the confident and bossy complaint hotline operator, however, she could hardly believe that she'd be with 916 of all people. She had always thought that she'd only settle down for someone as expressive as her, and so far, 916 didn't give her that impression. Still, they seemed to be having fun in the photos, so she didn't see the point in questioning any further.

Maddie's room was next, and it certainly surprised Numbuh 126 the most. She had a water bed, and shark memorabilia was just about everywhere. Anything that wasn't shark-related was dedicated to rock and heavy metal bands, comics, and copies of badly-rated horror movies that were way out of their age range.

"Maddie is a lot more hardcore than I gave her credit for," she mused aloud.

"Not really," 420 corrected. "She just really gets excited over this kind of stuff. The Numbuh 71 you met out there is what you get."

Numbuh 126 wasn't sure she trusted 420's judgement, but she figured she'd find out soon enough anyway, so she didn't bother arguing.

"Numbuh 33 is really touchy about his room, so we'll avoid his for now," 916 explained as they passed the next door.

Numbuh 126 didn't need to be told twice. The sign on the door, a big red one with bits of barbed wire decorating the edges and the words 'NUMBUH 33 ONLY' was enough for her to steer clear. She'd be lying if she weren't curious, though.

"And this one is yours!" 420 exclaimed, jazz hands and all. The room wasn't anything special considering there was nothing in it, but Numbuh 126 was sure that she'd come up with something for it soon enough. As she set down her bags, the lights began to flicker on and off.

420 gave a heavy sigh. "Great, Numbuh 71 forgot to feed the hamsters again. I don't want to have another powuh outage just because the hamsters throw a hissy fit again."

"We'd better go remind her, then," Numbuh 916 suggested. "I bet she hasn't even noticed."

126 followed the other two back to the general area. Surely enough, Numbuh 71 was still reading her comic.

"Hey, 71, feed the hamsters, yeah?" Numbuh 420 prompted.

"Huh? Oh," Numbuh 71 took a moment to process what he was saying. "Yeah, okay."

Soon after she'd left, a weird noise started emanating from the nearest wall. It sounded sort of like a motor…

"Great, 33's back," 420 said dryly and dove behind the nearest sofa.

"I'd suggest moving out of the way if I were you," Numbuh 916 quickly told Numbuh 126, then hid underneath the breakfast table.

Numbuh 71 had just returned from feeding the hamsters, but upon noticing the other two hiding, she turned heel and walked away in the opposite direction.

Numbuh 126 didn't understand what was going on, but decided it was best to take their advice and pressed herself against the farthest wall. Just as she did that, she heard a loud bang and a cloud of dust and wood shavings blew towards her. She instantly covered her eyes, and the more she listened, the more she was sure that the sound was that of a motor.

The dust gradually began to settle, and when Numbuh 126 was sure she could safely open her eyes, she was met with the sight of half of a S.C.A.M.P.E.R. crashed through the wall. Before she could react, the door opened and two figures exited, one significantly taller than the other one. Soon, she could recognize the taller operative as Numbuh 33, shaking dust off his black spiky hair and aviator jacket. Only after he had dusted himself off did he bother taking off his flight goggles, setting them atop his forehead. The other one was a little blond boy in a dark blue jumpsuit. With a groan, she caught sight of the number on the patch on his chest: 87. She thought she'd seen the last of him when she left Moonbase.

"Why can't you use the cruddy hangar for once?" Numbuh 916 emerged from under the table, tying his bandana around his neck. "I've rebuilt that wall at least ten times already!"

Numbuh 33 shrugged, unbothered. "I wasn't the one driving; Milo was."

"I didn't hit the lamp this time!" Numbuh 87 grinned, pointing at a dangling light bulb on the ceiling. True, it was intact, but the poor thing had probably been through more than a few past incidents considering it was smothered in electrical tape.

"Milo shouldn't be flying!" Numbuh 420 insisted. "He still hasn't completed his course!"

"As his self-appointed personal instructor, I decided that it was best that he get his practice in!" Numbuh 33 scoffed, pretending to be offended. "Besides, it's you who said I shouldn't be flying when I've been drinking."

"You were out having a root beer?" Numbuh 916 flared up.

"Milo and I just finished delivering a new load, so I decided to partake in some, no big deal," Numbuh 33 brushed him off.

Numbuh 420 rolled his eyes. He'd certainly heard this excuse more than once. "Whether or not you had a couple root beers or not, you're not qualified to be leading anyone, much less Milo. That's what _she's _for," he said, pointing directly at her.

Now aware that she hadn't said a single word up until that point, Numbuh 126 straightened herself as best as she could and began marching towards him. She would not be a leader who lets things like this slide. "You can't just go around crashing aircrafts into this treehouse, you know. It takes up precious time we could be dedicating to something more important."

"So _you're _the rookie Numbuh 95 sent over," Numbuh 33 ignored her, looking her over. Numbuh 126 knew she didn't look very impressive; she was easily the shortest of the bunch, and the green bows in her ponytails probably didn't give her the intimidating appearance that would be useful right about now.

"I'll have you know that I am no rookie," she almost spat. Still, she couldn't let him see that he was getting to her, so she took a moment to calm herself and stated, "I've worked under Numbuh 2/2 for three years now, and I'll have you know that he's hard to please."

"Oh please, Numbuh 2/2 is a lunatic." 126's resume meant nothing to this boy. "As long as you didn't let an operative get away, he'll be pleased with any performance."

"Seeing as how I haven't let that happen, I can assure you that I am a perfectly qualified Kids Next Door operative."

Numbuh 33 didn't seem so impressed, but didn't press the matter further. "Whatever, I'm heading to my room to take a nap. One of you take Milo back to Moonbase, yeah?"

Without waiting for a response, Numbuh 33 pushed past and out of sight, leaving Numbuh 87 to roam around the space. Soon after, Numbuh 71 popped back in, trying not to acknowledge the hole in the wall and heading back to the couch.

"Well, seeing as I'm here…" Numbuh 87 began, surveying the group of operatives before him. "How about I interest you all in Moonbase's latest 2x4 designs? Numbuh 242 has just come up with a new batch, and I can get you a discount seeing as you're Numbuh 33's friends."

"My inventions are enough, thanks Numbuh 87," 420 glared at him.

"Oh, don't talk to me that way," Numbuh 87 pouted, dashing over to 420 in a blur of movement. "You act as if you've never used my services. How about another rare yipper lot, yeah? I'll be getting a new shipment in a couple days~"

"You've been dealing with Milo again?" Numbuh 916 scolded his teammate. "You know better than that!"

"It was only a couple times!" 420 replied.

"This kid is going to attract nerd zombies!"

Now Numbuh 87 was at 916's side. "Now, now, I assure you that all of my trades are done fair and square. I'm not stupid enough to steal from nerds. I've got enough products to sway even the most stubborn of them."

As Numbuh 87 kept trying to convince her teammates to trade or buy his products, Numbuh 126 decided it was best to get him as far away as possible as fast as possible. Numbuh 87 was notorious for harassing sectors until they gave in, and she wouldn't let hers fall victim to his persistence on her first day in charge.

"Numbuh 71, take Numbuh 87 back to Moonbase," she instructed.

If not for the slight trembling in her hands, Numbuh 126 would've thought that she hadn't heard, but it was enough for her to realize she was only pretending she hadn't.

"71?" 126 prompted. Still no response.

Already high strung thanks to her confrontation with Numbuh 33, Numbuh 126 was done with the pleasantries. She stormed up to 71, intentionally pressing into her heels to make her footsteps louder, and jabbed 71's shoulder with her finger. "Numbuh 71!"

The blonde turned her head slightly, her lips wobbling. "Yes?"

"Would you kindly escort Numbuh 87 back to Moonbase?" Numbuh 126 repeated in a calm voice this time. She needed to establish who was boss, but she didn't intend on starting on the wrong foot with her teammates either. Numbuh 95 wanted a functional team, and that's what she was intending to give her. If it required some tough love at first, then so be it.

"Oh, uh, yeah, okay," was Numbuh 71's eventual reply.

Numbuh 126 felt bad for the operative. Numbuh 87 would be a handful for the duration of that flight, but she had other business to attend to, and seeing as the wall needed patching, so did 916. Besides, 420 had already established himself as an awful pilot, and she didn't feel like rescuing two operatives before the day was done.

Once 71 had backed out of the wall with 87 on the S.C.A.M.P.E.R., 916 went off to retrieve some tools and 420 retreated to his "lair" to keep working on some designs. 126, on the other hand, found herself in front of 33's door. She knew that he was supposed to be sleeping, but she needed a word with him. She wasn't going to let him step all over her like he had earlier.

She knocked once, then twice, hoping that he'd catch her hint. When he failed to come to the door, she began knocking in succession and calling out, "Numbuh 33?"

Eventually he opened the door. He'd lost the aviator jacket and goggles, leaving him with only a blue v-neck shirt and jeans. Surprisingly, he still had his boots on, despite the fact that small silver spikes were protruding from the toes.

_How tacky._

"What part of taking a nap do you not understand?" Numbuh 33 barely looked her in the eye.

"Look," Numbuh 126 began. "I know that it must be hard dealing with a demotion, but I want to assure you that it's nothing personal."

"Ugh, not this," Numbuh 33 slapped his forehead and dragged it across his face. "It's whatever. The missions were a failure; it was only a matter of time."

Numbuh 126 wouldn't let his dismissal of her concerns cut the conversation short. "I'm only here to do what Numbuh 95 asked of me, so I'd appreciate it if you would help by being cooperative."

"Numbuh 95 sent you to be our leader. So what? You think you're a hot shot?"

"More specifically, she sent me here so that I could make this team a functional one," Numbuh 126 corrected.

Numbuh 33 chuckled at that. "Good luck with that."

"What? You doubt me?" Numbuh 126 could feel her cheeks redden with anger, but she kept her composure. She couldn't let him win again.

"Oh, I'm sure you're as _qualified_ as you think you are," 33 shrugged. "What I doubt is this the team itself."

"How so?"

"Numbuh 95 can blame me for those failed missions all she likes, but I stand by what I think; this team is made out of incapable operatives. The sector was fine back with my old team. But then they were decommissioned and I was sent nutcases like 420 and 71. How could she expect me to work with that? Even Numbuh 5 mi/hr asked to be transferred out. Seriously!"

"I'm sure everyone here can be molded into a proper team." Numbuh 126 crossed her arms. She was beginning to regret coming.

"You sure about that?" Numbuh 33 pressed. "You've met them. Numbuh 420 can barely stay awake most of the time, and his inventions are way too complicated to be of any use. He can't even build his own designs!"

"I'm sure we can work on it-"

Numbuh 33 ignored her comment and continued, "71 can heal a boo-boo as well as anyone else, but she can hardly interact with anyone! She doesn't even go on most missions."

"Well, with the right encouragement-"

"Numbuh 916 is alright, but the guy doesn't specialize in anything! I can't depend on him for everything, that's spreading him too thin! He's of no use if the rest of the team can't contribute."

Numbuh 126 couldn't argue with that. Still, she felt like Numbuh 33 was being unnecessarily pessimistic. From what she'd seen, everyone had potential, and they all got along with each other pretty fine. If anything, everyone was united in their hatred towards _him_.

"No matter what you think of them, I won't allow your negativity to affect the team."

"I'm only being realistic," Numbuh 33 insisted. He dug his hand into his pocket and handed her a photograph. "Now _that_ was a team," Numbuh 33 almost whispered.

Numbuh 126 could recognize a smaller 33 and 916 at the edges, and even a couple operatives in the picture seemed familiar, probably from when she'd had to decommission them considering how much older they looked in comparison to the other two.

"Numbuh 31's new tech was simple and easy to understand, plus he was a good flyer so we always had a backup," Numbuh 33 explained. He pointed at a boy with light brown hair in a blue t-shirt. Then, signaling to a blonde girl with red highlights, he continued, "239 taught me all her tricks, and she made sure the team was well-dressed when performing them."

Numbuh 126 noticed his voice was much softer in comparison to his coarser tone only moments ago. He must have really loved his old teammates to speak so highly of them.

"Numbuh 007 was promoted to Global Tactical Officer shortly after this photo was taken. He could infiltrate any hideout." The boy 33 was referring to was a black boy at the corner of the group sporting all black attire, including his hat.

"And that last one?" Numbuh 126 pointed at a boy at the center of the picture. He looked younger than the last three operatives, but his eyes shone with a wisdom that wasn't present in the rest.

"Numbuh 183," Numbuh 33 paused. "He was the last leader, my brother. Got decommissioned last year."

"Some big shoes to fill?"

"Something like that," 33 frowned. He took back the photograph and carefully folded it into his pocket. "If it weren't for my attachment to this treehouse, I would've asked to be transferred ages ago. This team is a lost cause."

"Just see what I can do with it," 126 challenged. No quitter was going to dictate whether she'd pull ahead or not. "I'll make this a sector to be proud of."

"Well, I'd certainly like to see you try, toots."

Ignoring the jab, 126 simply answered, "Whatever, just get your rest and be ready to head out tomorrow. We should be getting missions by then."

"Whatever you say, boss." With that, 33 shut his door and Numbuh 126 was left in the hallway. She knew she could build this team up to be something great, but she would need everyone's cooperation, and that meant convincing Numbuh 33 that his teammates weren't a failure. She could only hope that she'd take the right steps in order to achieve that


	3. First Mission

The next morning, Numbuh 126 was up bright and early, patiently waiting by the mission transmitter, anticipating the moment someone would finally pop up to give her their first mission. 420 had yet to emerge from his lair, and the other three were at the breakfast table eating Rainbow Munchies.

"C'mon, 126," 916 approached her, carrying an extra bowl of sugary cereal. "Have some breakfast. I doubt they'll assign us anything so early after such a big change."

"You never know, 916." Still, she took the bowl and began digging in.

Eventually, 420 finally appeared, and judging by the bags that remained under his eyes, he hadn't been busy sleeping. Serving himself an overflow of cereal, he trudged over to join the two of them. "By the way, you never told us much about yourself," he half-yawned. "Was that stuff about working under 2/2 true?"

126 nodded as she gulped down her latest spoonful. "I've been on the decommissioning squad ever since I graduated from the training academy."

"This must feel like a step down, then," 916 mused.

"Oh, don't say that. I'm honestly excited," 126 admitted. "I've always wanted to go on regular missions and fight villains. Chasing down run away operatives isn't exactly the same thing."

"Well, it's not all it's cracked out to be either," 420 said, splashing milk onto his lap.

"That's because you're always knocked out first," 916 laughed.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

After a short while of back and forth, the two shifted their focus back to their breakfast and 126 was allowed to continue. "Besides, it's nice being closer to home. Heading to Moonbase on the daily was exhausting."

"That's good at least," 916 nodded.

"Yeah, I'll be spending most nights there; I don't like leaving my mom alone."

"Alone?" 420 seemed like he was about to ask more questions, but 916 nudged him with his elbow and 420 shut himself up.

126 didn't mind talking about her past; what happened had happened. Before she could reassure her teammates, however, the screen suddenly turned on, revealing a short boy with gelled-back light brown hair and a red bow tie.

"Numbuh 2-Shoes!" 420 was so startled that he spilled some more milk onto the floor.

The boy looked down at them, silently judging them, no doubt. No matter what one did, he found a way to criticize them. To be fair, considering the team's past performance, he had probably already labeled them in his mind as hopeless. "Good morning, Sector CA."

"Good morning, Numbuh 2-Shoes," 126 addressed the boy by his full codename. Anything less would incite a harsh critique of shortening codenames as a safety hazard or something of the like. "A mission, I presume?"

"It seems so, though why that is is beyond me," 2-Shoes rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure we can handle it," Numbuh 126 replied. She seemed to be the only optimist on the team, but if that were truly the case, then she'd only have to up her game. She wouldn't let a lack of enthusiasm bring them down before they even began.

"Regardless…" 916 brought back the attention of everyone. "What's our mission?"

"Only the sector leaduh is entitled to that information, Numbuh 916," 2-Shoes calmly, yet coldly, explained. Despite the boy being up in Moonbase and talking to them through a transmission, it was hard not to get goosebumps from his tone.

"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" 126 was losing her patience. She wanted to prove that her team could do a good job as quickly as possible. "So go on."

Slightly annoyed, Numbuh 2-Shoes finally conceded. "A new villain has been spotted in the nearby suburbs. She seems to go by Miss Demeanor. She's been shutting down kids' lemonade stands all morning for not having permits to sell, and your mission is to put a stop to her exploits."

"Seems simple enough," 126 said, reading the missions specs as they printed out beside the monitor. "We'll be on it."

"Numbuh 2-Shoes, signing off." The screen went blank and 126 was set into motion.

"Alright, team, time to move out!" she announced, setting down the remainder of her breakfast.

"Can't I finish my breakfast first?" Numbuh 420 asked.

"Adult tyranny waits for no one," 126 winked and took 420's bowl to set down beside her own. "Now everyone, onto the S.C.A.M.P.E.R.!"

"Fine, let me just go pick up some weapons first." 420 ran off to his room to do so.

"Hold on, we should take the S.T.A.N.K. instead," 33 called out.

"Why?" 126 asked.

"Numbuh 2-Shoes said suburbs, right?" After 126 nodded, he continued, "In that case, we have a lot of road space, and we might need something that has wheels."

"I suppose you have a point," 126 swallowed her pride and nodded. Though she wanted to be the one to call the shots, 33 was right. In a way, she was pleasantly surprised. She didn't think that 33 could think things through that way considering his brash actions the night before.

Once 420 was back with a backpack of weapons, the team dashed to the hangar and boarded the S.T.A.N.K. as Numbuh 33 had suggested. As the team all took their seats, 126 noticed that 71 was nowhere to be found. "Where is Numbuh 71?"

"Finishing her breakfast, I assume?" 420 answered as if it were obvious.

"Well, go get her then!"

"71 doesn't normally come on missions," 33 stated, pulling his goggles over his eyes and closing the S.T.A.N.K. doors.

"Well, I say she should be here," 126 muttered. "I think someone should go fetch her."

"_Adult tyranny waits for no one_," 33 repeated what she'd said earlier, already pulling out of the treehouse. "We'll waste time; it's not like she'd be of much use anyway."

Numbuh 126 wanted to correct his defeatist attitude, but she figured it was best not to argue so early on on their first mission together. Besides, they were already flying off to their destination; there wasn't much she could do about the matter anymore anyway.

Soon, the team was approaching the coordinates Numbuh 2-Shoes had given her. "Any visuals so far?"

"I think I'm picking up something down to my left," 916 said, peering into a set of binoculars on his dashboard.

"Let me see." 126 took his spot temporarily to take a peek down at the street. Sure enough, she could make out a lemonade stand run by a young boy on the sidewalk, cheerfully calling out for people to come to his lemonade stand. "She hasn't hit this one yet, we should prepare to ambush her."

"I'll drop you three off and I'll hide the S.T.A.N.K. above the clouds," 33 began his descent. "Just let me know when or if you want me to head down."

"Sounds like a plan," 126 agreed. For someone who was convinced of their failure, he sure came up with some decent strategies. Numbuh 33 landed the S.T.A.N.K. a few blocks away from the lemonade stand and signaled for them to head off.

"Wait, let me hand out my weapons!" 420 rushed to distribute his inventions to the operatives before disembarking.

"What's this?" she asked. She was only used to basic weapons, like a .K.E.T. or a S.P.I.C.E.R., and this didn't look quite like either of those. The weapon in question was shaped like a handgun, except the barrel was enlarged and worked like a revolver. Inside, the slots held what looked like little darts.

"Introducing, the D.A.R.T.-G.U.N.!" 420 announced, clearly excited to show off his newest invention. "Dart Attack Radically Tires Grown Ups Nastily."

"And how exactly does this thing work?" Numbuh 33 asked. As he inspected the invention, his face wrinkled up as if he had just caught someone farting.

"Simple really," 420 began his demonstration. "This gun is loaded with ten darts that, when shot, put adults to sleep, and-"

"No time!" 916 cried out, pointing at the lemonade stand. It was being approached by a middle-aged woman on a segway. Her dirty blonde hair was lazily put up in a bun of sorts, and though she was certainly in no physical shape to be one, she was wearing a tacky meter maid outfit, complete with a clipboard in one hand.

"That must be her." With that, Numbuh 33 shut the door and blasted off before Miss Demeanor could notice him.

"Well there goes our ambush," 420 muttered.

"We still have the element of surprise," 126 whispered, ushering the two boys into a hedge where they could approach the lemonade stand without being seen. It was only a matter of time before they were within a few feet from the lemonade stand.

"A lemonade stand? How cute," the woman looked down at the boy with smiling eyes. "How much for a glass?"

"25 cents, m'am!" the boy happily replied.

The woman took out a saggy coin purse out of her pocket and began rummaging around with her fingers for a quarter.

"Do you think it's really her?" 420 whispered, yawning halfway through. "She seems like she just wants some lemonade."

126 silenced him with a finger to his lips. She was no newbie to deceit; countless operatives had pretended to go along with their decommissioning until they found the perfect opportunity to strike. If she couldn't let her guard down for a kid, then there was no way she would for an adult.

The woman continued to rummage around in her purse, sticking her tongue out as if she was having a hard time. "By the way, sonny," she said, "do you have a sales permit?"

"A what?" the boy gave her a puzzled look.

"You know, an official slip of paper that allows you to sell things, like your lemonade."

916 made a move as if to emerge right then and there, but 126 held him back. She wanted to get a scope of what this lady had in store. As a new villain, the KND hadn't been able to give out many details about Miss Demeanor; it was up to 126's team to find out what had caused the KND to label her as a villain rather than another annoying adult.

"Uh, I don't think so…" the boy answered.

"Oh, well that's _no good_," the woman wagged her index finger back and forth. "I'm gonna have to shut this operation down."

"What for?"

"As head of the neighborhood brigade, I need to protect this neighborhood's economy."

"I've only sold like two dollars' worth!"

"Two dollars that could have gone to someone with a proper permit," Miss Demeanor tutted.

"You're not a cop!" the boy cried out indignantly.

The woman paid him no mind, putting away her coin purse and writing something down on her clipboard. After a few seconds, she ripped off the piece of paper and handed it over to the boy.

"A ticket?" the boy looked down at the slip incredulously. "I can't pay this! That's more than I've made this entire month!"

"Can't pay, you say?" the woman smirked. "Then you've just become my next jailbird, sonny." She then proceeded to take out an ancient flip phone and press one of the buttons. After she'd done so, a huge contraption came into view uphill. It was essentially a huge cage on wheels, long metallic claws extending from the bottom rim. Inside the cage were a handful of miserable kids, tied up with tablecloths and rolls of blank tickets.

"Kids Next Door, move out!" 126 announced. Now that she knew what they were up against, there was no time to wait. At once, she and 916 emerged from the hedge, their weapons pointed straight at Miss Demeanor. She could only assume that 420 was behind her. "Release those kids!" she commanded.

The woman was unphased, only extending her smirk further. "You do realize that you're obstructing justice, right?" Then, with another press of her button, one of the claws on her contraption sprung up. 126 dodged out of the way before it could hit her, but the boy running the stand wasn't so lucky. The claw picked him up with ease, and another one ripped the tablecloth off his stand to wrap him up. The screaming kid was thrown into the cage with the others quicker than 126 could react.

"Attack!" 126 shouted, aiming her D.A.R.T.-G.U.N. at Miss Demeanor and pressing the trigger. Despite its large barrel, only one dart shot out at a time. 916 followed her lead, throwing a couple shots. They each only had ten darts, so they had to make them count. If they could just hit her once, though, it would be game over.

Miss Demeanor did her best to avoid the darts, aided by the claws on her contraption and her surprisingly speedy segway, both of which either ruined their aim or blocked the darts for her.

"I'm coming in!" 33 announced over his communicator.

"Negative, Numbuh 33," 126 stopped him. "Hit the contraption and you risk hitting the prisoners too. Besides, you'll only get caught in the storm."

"So what? I hit the lady instead!"

If Numbuh 33 hit her at the right angle, it was true that the S.T.A.N.K. could probably take her out in one shot. However, it was a tricky shot, and considering 33's history of crashing, she didn't see why she could trust him. Besides, she was getting tired of hearing him call all the shots. _She _was leader of Sector CA, not him, not anymore. "I said, negative, Numbuh 33!"

Numbuh 33 groaned, but based on the lack of engines approaching, she assumed that he was going to listen to her this once.

"420, is there any way to bait those claws away from her?" she asked, narrowly avoiding being caught up by a one of them. 916 was busy with a couple of his own. Though he was doing a good job so far, it was only a matter of time before he was overwhelmed.

Still, there was no response from 420. As 126 took a moment to look around, she noticed that 420 was actually nowhere to be found. 916 must have noticed too because he eventually pointed at the hedge, and said, "There!" Surely enough, 126 could make out 420's hand poking out from the bottom of the hedge. He was snoring.

_Note to self: impose a curfew. _

Trying her best to keep herself calm, she rushed over to 916 and said, "I'll leave you to handle these claws and I'll try and get close enough to her to get a dart in."

916 nodded, though he didn't look very enthused by the idea of having to fend off the claws on his own. 126 stayed close enough for the rest of the claws to target their area, then came up with an idea. As the last claw lunged for her, she leapt up and landed on top of it. Quickly, she ran the length of the claw. Miss Demeanor wasn't expecting that, and before she could move out of the way, 126 landed a dart in her shoulder.

"Gotcha!" she cried, landing beside the cage to wait for the villainess to fall asleep.

"You did?" 33's voice sounded incredulous. "Gotta say, I'm impressed."

Miss Demeanor stared at her shoulder in horror, her eyes wide. She rushed to pluck the dart from it, but her trembling frame and bulging eyes gave away her nerves. However, several moments went by and she remained on her toes.

"Did you pull the drawstring before shooting?" 916 called out as he dodged a couple claws. His moves were becoming sluggish under the constant barrage of attacks, but he kept his ground for the time being.

"The what?" 126 turned the gun in her hand to see a small drawstring dangling from the back that she hadn't noticed until then.

420 suddenly perked from his slumber and emerged from the hedge, stumbling into the open. "You're supposed to pull the drawstring before shooting to load the dart with the sleep concoction!"

Upon hearing this, Miss Demeanor smiled and wagged her fingers threateningly. "Now you're drugging adults? That's no way to treat your elders."

"Spoke too soon," came Numbuh 33's comment.

Before 420 could do anything about it, one of the claws strayed away from 916 and snatched up 420. The boy didn't even attempt a struggle; his eyes were already drooping back closed, so much so that he didn't even need to be tied. By the time he was thrown into the cage, he was fast asleep.

"420!" 916 yelped before he was taken over by the remaining claws. Dropping his weapon, he was bound with a roll of blank tickets and shoved beside his sleeping companion.

Panicking, 126 reached for the communicator on her waist and shouted, "33!"

"Oh, so now you want me!" came the reply, and as 126 ran down the street, the S.T.A.N.K. broke through the clouds and came to fly right beside her. Once the hatch opened, she jumped right in, only for the aircraft to fly back up and out of reach from Miss Demeanor.

"And thus, we're down to two," Numbuh 33 said, keeping the S.T.A.N.K. in place once they were high up enough to stay out of sight.

"We need to come up with a plan," 126 barely acknowledged his comment. With only two operatives, this was going to be hard, but they still had the S.T.A.N.K., so they still had a chance.

"What we do is call for backup and let some other sector deal with this mess," 33 stated, bringing his feet up to rest on the co-pilot seat. He was about to reach into the compartment underneath his seat before 126 snapped his hand away.

"We are doing no such thing. 420 and 916 are in trouble, and it should be their sector's responsibility to get them out, not anyone else's."

"Look, I warned you about them, didn't I?" 33 raised an eyebrow. "This happens every mission. Step one, Aarav gets captured. Whether he's asleep or not varies. Step two, Renzo is knocked out because he's spread too thin. Step 3, I'm left to try and fix everything and accidentally destroy another aircraft in the process. Step four, I have to realize I can't do this and Numbuh 95 sends sector SF to pick up after us. And finally, step five, we get back, 71 uses up all her supplies on those two, and then we wait another couple weeks before global command bothers to hand us our next low stakes mission."

"Well, that breakdown doesn't include me, so that's gotta switch things up a bit, yeah?" 126 pointed out.

"I'd like to think so, hun, but considering our current situation, I doubt it."

"_Hun_?" 126 sent a glare his way. "I have a name, you know."

"I don't, actually," Numbuh 33 pointed out. "You've never bothered to introduce yourself."

"Well that makes two of us."

Numbuh 33 huffed, but grinned a little. "You certainly got me there."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Are you not going to do me the honors?"

"Fine," 33 conceded. "I'm Adrian Sokolov." He held his hand out.

"Yamina Boutros," 126 shook his hand. "Call me Mina."

"Alright, now that that's settled, _Mina_, dial Moonbase, yeah?"

"I was serious about finishing this mission on our own," 126 objected.

"You're better off returning to Moonbase and asking for your old position back."

"I refuse to disappoint Numbuh 95 like that."

"Do you hold Numbuh 95's word as law, or something?" 33 asked.

"Why shouldn't I? Numbuh 95 is the soopreme leaduh, and she makes the rules. As a KND operative, I am bound to follow the rules set down by my superior, especially Numbuh 95." 126 could hardly believe that she had to explain this. Maybe it was this lack of information that had made him a poor leader.

Numbuh 33 gave her a long stare. "Well, that solves that mystery."

"What mystery?"

"Forget it," 33 ignored her question.

"Fine." 126 didn't feel like arguing right now. They had more pressing issues to attend to. "But we're still going back there, without anyone else's involvement."

"And you suppose we do that how?" 33 asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We've still got a S.T.A.N.K., don't we?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well… we haven't moved on to step three yet."


	4. Success?

"Aarav! Aarav~"

Numbuh 420 remained fast asleep, drool beginning to dribble out from the side of his mouth. Giving up, Numbuh 916 leaned farther into one of the cage bars. He had tried to wriggle free from the ticket slips he was tied with, but they held tight. If 420 would just wake up, he could untie him. Of course, he'd realized by now that it was of no use.

"What sort of Kids Next Door are you guys?" the boy from the lemonade stand taunted him from where he was rolled on his stomach on the opposite side of the cage. "This sucks!"

916 ignored him. He'd heard harsher complaints before. Carla called at least twice a week urging them to get better because she was tired of receiving calls about them. He'd hoped that Numbuh 126 would turn everything around, but maybe it had only been wishful thinking. Then again, maybe it was his fault; they would have already beaten Miss Demeanor if he'd taught 126 how to properly use the D.A.R.T.-.G.U.N. Sure, that was Aarav's job, but he'd been the one to build it, after all.

Still, there was no use dwelling on such things now. All he could do was wait for Sector SF to show up and free them, unless they decided that they weren't worth it this time around. He hoped 420's little sister had enough compassion to save them. It was worth the barrage of scolding that would ensue afterwards. When he heard the sound of an engine approaching, he expected Taara's voice to yell down at them from the speakers at any moment.

However, when he looked up, 916's heart dropped. The S.T.A.N.K. was headed straight for them. It wouldn't be the first time that Numbuh 33 crashed their vehicle into something. Actually, it would be another in a long line of such instances. However, even with such a long history of performing these brash last ditch resorts, none had ever proved anywhere near successful. And in the end, it would be 916 who would have to gather the pieces and try to rebuild it. That S.T.A.N.K. alone had already gone through five previous remodels.

As the S.T.A.N.K. approached, faster and faster with each passing second, Miss Demeanor finally took notice. Unbothered, she sent the claws of her machine to reach up, awaiting the aircraft with open arms as she turned away to partake in some free lemonade. The lemonade stand boy gave an exasperated sigh and slammed his forehead into the floor. 916 was tempted to do the same.

Once the .N.K. was almost within range of the claws, 916 noticed two figures jumping off, parachutes flying open moments later. 916 had assumed that this was 33's work, but if 126 was going along with it, then maybe he had put too much faith in her good senses.

Before Miss Demeanor could see them, the two ditched their parachutes and scrambled over to hide behind a nearby mailbox.

_They're gonna get to her!_

Excited, 916 observed as the pair sneaked up on Miss Demeanor, their D.A.R.T.-G.U.N.S. loaded properly this time. The claws were busy dealing with the S.T.A.N.K., taking it apart piece by piece. It hurt to think of the work that was awaiting him once the mission was over, so he didn't. Instead, he thought about how he was going to be able to give Carla some good news for once.

Unexpectedly, Miss Demeanor began turning, having finished her lemonade. She was probably meaning to inspect her catches before heading over to her next victim. Panicking, Numbuhs 33 and 126 picked up their pace, but they wouldn't get to her before she noticed them, not by a long shot. The two of them weren't enough to take on the claws if they were redirected their way.

Desperate to veer her attention away from his teammates, Numbuh 916 used his foot to kick 420. He groaned a bit, but didn't react otherwise. Once 420 was actually asleep it was a near impossible task to wake him back up.

_And yet, he had, just a while ago. _

Even if it had only been for a short while, 420 had woken himself up to give a little nerd spiel on how his newest invention worked. If he could recreate that, then maybe...

"So first, I shoot, and _then _I draw the string?" he said, exaggerating his tone to sound extremely confused. "I just _can't_ get a hang of this D.A.R.T.-G.U.N.!"

420 groaned once more, but actually sat up this time. "You built these things! You should know how these work, bozo!" He was still groggy, but he was at least reacting.

"Hurry up and free me!" 916 urged at the top of his lungs, hoping to catch Miss Demeanor's attention in spite of the heavy noises that the claws were making. He continued to make loud noises, stomping his feet and making loud woops.

This seemed to have worked. As 420, still not entirely aware of his surroundings, stood up and began fiddling with 916's ties, Miss Demeanor peered over at the cage and frowned, completely missing the two operatives who were sneaking up on her further to her right. "Now, now, no freeing the prisoners!" she said, sending a couple claws to deal with them. Though 916 was upset that he hadn't actually managed to free themselves, he could at least let it be known that he did his part. The rest was now up to Numbuhs 33 and 126.

* * *

When Numbuh 126 had heard 916 screaming at the top of his lungs, she had been tempted to check up on him. However, a tug from Numbuh 33 was enough for her to bring her focus back to the task at hand. Take out Miss Demeanor, and this whole mess would be done with. They'd already taken a risk by abandoning the S.T.A.N.K.; they could no longer afford to fail. If Miss Demeanor noticed them before they could strike, it would mean the end of her success streak, and the end of her team's confidence in her.

As Miss Demeanor's attention was taken by 916's commotion, 126 took the opportunity to shoot the first dart. She only had a handful left, so she held back from shooting consecutively, as she was used to. Though it missed by a short margin, Miss Demeanor was caught off guard.

"_You!_" she spat, reaching for her flip phone.

Startled, 126 lost her balance and took a nasty fall, her knee scraping along the pavement. She panicked for a moment, wondering if she'd just ruined their chances, but luckily, Numbuh 33 was there to pick up her slack. Before Miss Demeanor could redirect her claws, Numbuh 33 fired a couple more shots, one of them hitting her hand. Miss Demeanor dropped her phone in an instant, howling at the top of her lungs as if she'd just been run over.

"You didn't load the dart like I told you to!" 126 shouted at 33.

"Blame 420! He makes these things needlessly complicated!" 33 argued, shooting again without correcting his actions.

Miss Demeanor took the small altercation as her chance to escape, hopping onto her segway and beginning to roll away.

"Get her!" 126 cried out, ignoring her throbbing knee to give chase.

Numbuh 33, who reacted much quicker and had longer legs to boot, caught up with Miss Demeanor in a few heartbeats before she could properly accelerate, taking hold of one of her legs. Miss Demeanor instantly sped up, trying to shake him off her leg. 33 tried to shoot her at point blank range, but a bump in the road caused him to drop the weapon.

"Shoot!" Numbuh 33 urged.

"I can't hit her from this distance!" 126 answered. She had never been the fastest operative, and with an injured knee, her performance certainly wasn't at her best. Just keeping the pair in sight took up most of her effort. There was no way she would be able to properly aim as well.

"Just do it!"

Figuring that there wasn't much else to lose at this point, 126 shot her last couple remaining darts, both of which failed to hit Miss Demeanor. However, one of them landed close enough to 33 that he was able to pick it up from the road before the segway left it out of reach.

"Who needs 2x4 tech when you have perfectly good hands?" 126 could hear 33 tease as he drove the dart straight into Miss Demeanor's ankle the old-fashioned way.

It only took seconds for Miss Demeanor to give in to the dart's effects. She stumbled off her segway and faceplanted into the pavement. 33 proceeded to hop off, dusting off his jeans afterwards.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Being dragged on a segway a few blocks certainly didn't sound like a pleasant experience.

"I'm fine," Numbuh 33 replied, staring down at the villain on the floor. "_She_ won't be once Arctic Prison gets their hands on her."

"I told you we could do it!" 126 boasted. Now that they were out of danger for the time being, she could freely rub it in the older boy's face.

"Well, if by _we_ you mean _you and I_, then I guess that's true."

"We'll just have to take it one operative at a time, then."

Numbuh 33 shrugged and said, "Yeah, whatever you say." Still, he was smiling, if only slightly. Not even _he _could hide his pleasure in having actually completed a mission. "Care for a lemonade?"


	5. Suggestions

Numbuh 126 had refused to call for backup after the mission. Though she'd have to include it in the mission report anyway, she felt like sparing her team that embarrassment, especially when they'd just completed their first successful mission in what must have been ages. As such, after locating and crushing Miss Demeanor's flip phone, freeing their teammates and fellow kids, returning their money (with an added bonus coming from Miss Demeanor's own wallet), and calling the Arctic base operatives to come pick up the villain in question, they ended up taking the public bus back to the treehouse using 916's bus card. Even after being promised that he'd be paid back, he'd grumbled all trip long about how he'd been a crucial part of the mission's success and how he was going to keep tabs on everyone's expenses.

Now having finally reached the redwood that was their base, they walked in on Numbuh 71 back on the couch, this time watching a horror movie on the TV. Upon noticing their arrival, she turned the TV off and wordlessly scrambled away, only to come back moments later with a series of medical equipment.

As 71 began her work on 916 and 420 (who were mostly fine save for a couple bumps from when the claws had thrown them into a cage), 126 addressed her team, "Great job everyone! We had a rough start, but we successfully completed our mission nonetheless."

"Wait, we won?" 420 asked, giving a half-hearted hurrah before completely passing out in 71's arms.

"Wait, we won?" 71 repeated his question, struggling to hold 420 up.

"We sure did!" 126 replied.

Numbuh 71 was so surprised that she dropped 420 altogether, her eyes wide. Still, it only took her a few moments to compose herself and drag 420 to his room without a word.

"However, we can't be cutting it this close during our upcoming missions," 126 continued, done with the encouragement talk. Though she was certainly proud of their success, she never wanted a repeat of the way things went down ever again. Even she had to improve her technique.

"I figured as such," said 916.

"First off," 126 began, "916, I appreciate the distraction today." From having listened to him mumble on the bus, she had made up that much.

"I'm just surprised it worked," 916 admitted.

"Well, I'm glad it did," 33 patted him on the shoulder.

916 gave 33 a confused glance, but turned away a moment later. Considering his rocky relationship with his former leader, he must not be used to receiving praise from him, no matter how insignificant it was. It was hard to imagine the pair as trusted teammates, but they'd seemed to have been on friendly terms in the old photograph 33 had shown her.

"That said, I know you said you don't have a specialty, but I need you to adopt one," 126 continued.

"Huh?" 916 was caught off guard by the sudden change in subject.

"I don't care if you make it up, but I need you to have one so that you can focus on it and actively work on it. You're a good operative, but I need you to be better at _something_. I need to be able to depend on you for specialized tasks, no matter what they may be. If you generalize any longer, you'll be left with too much responsibility or with none at all."

"Um, okay," 916 saluted, but his expression betrayed his anxiety.

"33," 126 addressed him next. "I need you to be more optimistic. Your negativity brings this team down, and giving in at the first sign of conflict is not how a Kids Next Door operative rolls."

Numbuh 33 only huffed in response, but 126 took that as a reluctant agreement.

"Also, we have to try our hardest not to crash our vehicles from now on, whether intentionally or not. I don't want to have to use the bus every time we go on a mission."

"Well, that possibility has never stopped Numbuh 33 before," 916 rolled his eyes.

"Shut up before I take back what I said," 33 snapped.

"I mean it, okay?" 126 snapped her fingers to break up the argument before it could get very far.

"Yeah, yeah," 33 grumbled.

"420 will be put on a strict sleep schedule," she continued. "We cannot have an operative who can't pull his weight because he's too busy sleeping."

"_That_, I can agree on," 916 nodded.  
"But know that this won't be his first schedule," 33 warned her. "He's failed them before, so he might just be a lost cause."

"_Positive thoughts, 33_," 126 traced a smile over her lips, glaring at him at the same time.

"Fine, but _you _have to recognize the reality of our situation," 33 bit back.

"Excuse me?"

"I warned you about this team, and you decided to ignore me. That's what got us into this mess."

"Must I repeat myself again?" 126 was dangerously close to pulling out a marker and drawing a smile on his face herself.

"I won't stop you from being optimistic, but you can't let that get in the way of the truth. You can't expect results if you don't have a good grasp on what the problem is to begin with."

916 made no comment. That said, 126 had the feeling that he was in agreement with 33 by the way his eyes darted back to the boy.

"Noted," was her reply. She wasn't sure what to make of this comment, but she'd just have to sleep on it for the time being. She was much too tired from the day's events to make her brain work.

At that point, Numbuh 71 walked back in. Since 126 was the only one left who still needed to be checked, she dismissed the others for the night, taking it upon herself to write up the report of their mission for Global Command. As she wrote, 71 bandaged up the scrape she'd received thanks to the fall Miss Demeanor had caused her.

"All set," 71 said, patting the boo-boo as a finality. She then made to return to the TV, presumably to continue her movie, but 126 stopped her.

"Hey, 71."

The blonde turned, a little startled. Considering how she'd treated her just the day before, she wasn't surprised by her reaction. "Yes?"

"Why don't you go on missions?"

"I'm the medic," 71 stated, looking as if she was being asked a trick question.

"It's not unusual for medics to go on missions, you know," 126 pressed. "You did go through basic KND training, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"You're coming along on all future missions then," 126 finalized.

71 didn't reply, but she certainly didn't look satisfied. If anything, she looked more terrified than before, visibly trembling this time.

Deciding to give Numbuh 71 a chance to defend herself, Numbuh 126 sighed and walked up to her once more. If she was going to have a functional team, she needed everyone to contribute, and that wasn't going to happen unless she could figure Numbuh 71 out. "There's another reason you don't want to go on missions, isn't there?"

Numbuh 71 nodded, but remained silent. Trying to break the awkward silence, 126 prompted, "Do you… do you want to tell me what that is?"

Numbuh 71 hesitated, her eyes scanning the rest of the room as if she were searching for hidden cameras or for someone to pop out and announce that she'd just been pranked.

"Hey, it's just me," Numbuh 126 tried to reassure her, holding her hand. "This can stay between us, if you want."

Numbuh 71 sighed and scratched the back of her neck, pulling up her hood while she was at it. "I didn't join the Kids Next Door to go on missions or fight adult tyranny, I just wanted to get some medic training in before I become a doctor one day," she admitted. "I was aiming to be a medic at the hospital at Moonbase, but they told me that I wasn't cut out for working in a team environment, so they sent me down here so that I could be free to do my own thing."

Numbuh 126 was a little taken aback. She'd thought that every KND operative had joined for the sole purpose of fighting adult tyranny and protecting children's rights. She'd been passionate about their mission statement from the moment she'd heard of the organization, back when she'd first moved to the United States from Syria. Now wasn't the time to be judging her teammate, however, not when she'd been the one to ask her to open up. "So?"

"Well…" 71 looked down at her feet as she shuffled them back and forth. "If I can't work well in a team, then who's to say I won't mess things up during a mission? We were already a lousy sector without me going on missions, so wouldn't I just be a burden?"

"Of course not!" 126 was startled by her own conviction, quickly putting her hands over her own mouth to quiet herself down. She dropped her hands a few seconds later, once she was sure that the coast was clear, and continued, "You'll never know unless you try, and if today is anything to go by, I think you're underestimating this team."

"But, it's not like I have much to contribute anyway," 71 insisted. "If you haven't noticed, I'm not very _vocal_."

"Well, just talk then."

"No one listens to me, though!" 71 raised her voice a little. "I know I'm a bit shy, but that doesn't mean that I don't have things to say. The people around here just aren't good listeners."

Considering 420 was asleep half the time, 33 listened to no one, and 916 was often busy fixing everyone's messes, that wasn't hard to believe. "Well, I'm the leader now, and I _want _to listen to you."

71 perked up slightly. "You do?"

"I do."

"I don't know…" 71 removed her hood, but shoved her hands into her hoodie pockets to compensate.

"Look, come on the next mission. We can see where things go from there," 126 suggested.

"I guess I can do that," 71 agreed, finalizing the deal with a petite handshake.

"Great!" 126 smiled. "In that case, I'm heading home for the night. I assume you are too?"

"Oh no, I don't go home much," 71 shook her head. "I live too far to go home every night."

"Really? Where do you live? Humboltd?"

"Maryland."

126 almost choked on her own spit at Numbuh 71's answer. Maryland was all the way across the country. "Excuse me? Global Command has the right to deny you that hospital gig, but couldn't they have at least assigned you to a sector in your own state?"

"Oh, they did!" Numbuh 71 corrected. "I… I asked to be assigned here instead."

"And why's that?"

"Oh… just wanted to be far from home. Explore some other place, you know?"

Considering the fact that 71 didn't go on missions and was apparently fond of indoor activities, 126 knew that she was making up her excuse. Yet, she'd already passed the first level when it came to her trust, and she didn't want to have to start all over, so she decided to bring it up some other time. "Huh, okay, I guess."

With that, she bid her fellow operative goodnight and headed for the hangar, taking the smallest aircraft left intact (a H.O.V.E.R.A.F.T) to fly home in. Despite the ups and downs, Numbuh 126 was eager to return to the treehouse first thing next morning, especially once she'd received feedback about their latest mission. Though today had been an improvement, she had yet to fully fulfill her promise to Numbuh 95. No matter what Numbuh 33 thought of said promise, she was dead-set on making her proud.


End file.
